The Mask of Leon
by Blue Moon7
Summary: A man who may have been a legend struggles in the border between sanity and madness. Living as a writer of cheap novels, Leon spends away his daily life on loquor and mad dialogue... or is he?
1. Default Chapter

"What we are today comes from our thoughts of  
  
yesterday, and our present thoughts build our life of  
  
tomorrow: our life is the creation of our mind."  
  
--The Dhammapada 1:1  
  
When I was a small boy, I remember my mother, Sofia, placing me on her lap. She told me, "Carleon, the world is a beautiful place, you must go there and love everyone."  
  
My mother's words fell on deaf ears as I witnessed the war that raged on between the Aachen Principality and the vile Sanadian berserkers, led by the treacherous Plenipotentiary Roderick von Boegenhagen. The war was there when I was born, and still continues to this day. I saw my father and brothers die in front of my eyes--it was my very dagger that dealt the blow of mercy upon their mortally wounded bodies.  
  
Every day I led troops into battle, chanting the war-chants of house Aachen. Many Sanadians have been cleft with the force of my blood-hatchet, but their blood has never been enough to quench the flames of indignation.  
  
This is the world I lived in, a world of battle, hate, and blood.  
  
Even Today...  
  
I sit in my quarters, recording today's exploits of battle. However, I stood up and marched out, my bloodstained Bradiche in hand. My troops were not in sight, but I felt the presence of enemies--Sanadians must be hiding within the perimeters of the Village... I prowled behind the houses like the night-fox, making no noise with the gait of a seasoned warrior-killer.  
  
Then I saw him, Von Boegenhagen himself, digging at the earth... probably trying to disturb the war-dead of the glorious clam Aachen. There was no hesitation as I rushed at him with my hatchet of blood. The steel sung as it glided through the air with its dirge. However, the fox-witted Plenipotentiary turned back with his earthen Scythe and blocked my death-bringing steel of rage.  
  
"Leon, it's you!" Von Boegenhagen roared, his signature straw hat hiding his eyes."  
  
"None calls me Leon but my mother that you have killed, Plenipotentiary Roderick Von Boegenhagen! I am Carleon, Lord and Head of the glorious Clan Aachen." I roared back a mighty roar.  
  
Von Boegenhagen grimaced, "Yes... Carleon, how would I forget. This day shall be your final day!" He launched his body at me. However, his movement was all too simple for a seasoned warrior such as myself. I simply dodged his attack and swung my death-axe at his...! Suddenly I felt pain in my abdomen.  
  
I heard Von Boegenhagen say "...that's the end for thy clan Leon." I looked down to see my torso impaled with Von Boegenhagen's scythe. Everything went dark as I fell to the ground. Oh gods of justice, is this the end of our glorious clan!? The faces of my mother, father, and brothers flashed through my mind as I drew my last breath, the air was imbued with blood mist, thick and ferrous--clinging until the last bit of air was pushed out of my lungs with the very essence of life itself.  
  
The End  
  
The man rested his quill in the inkwell as he sat back in his chair. His room, which was the entirety of his abode, was lit by one single candle. The man lifted his head and gazed at empty space, his eyes half covered by his unkempt eyebrows.  
  
The man's moustache moved, "I am Leon, Leon... SILVERBERG," The man uttered his last name with great emphasis, as if to assure himself of his last name.  
  
"I am a Silverberg, a Silverberg..." the man suddenly grabbed a bottle of undiluted wine. He vigorously quaffed the bottle, trails of red ran down his moustache, drizzling down his chin and down his neck. His entire body seemed to undulate as he forcefully swallowed the wine.  
  
"I was a great man! No, I am a great man, a GREAT man!" The man cackled into laughter. He cast the empty bottle towards the corner of his room, where many shattered bottles lay on the floor. As the bottle shattered against the dry wall, the man stopped laughing and sat down in his chair, taking the quill out of the inkwell.  
  
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"I am a great man, they call me Leonius Argentinus..." he started writing, again. 


	2. Contrary Ways

"Those who think the unreal is, and think the Real is not, they shall never reach the Truth, lost in the path of wrong thought."  
  
--The Dhammapada 1:9  
  
Insulted, hurt, defeated, robbed--such were the feelings that surged within my wounded soul. My name is Leonius Argentinus, and I am known throughout the lands as a great wizard. They call me, "The one who quenches fire by fire, and calms the wind by wind."  
  
I wore the sacred yellow robe of purity, the symbol of truth and harmony. But Truth and Harmony has escaped my world since the arrival of that malevolent beggar, Melanthropos. His words laced with honey-milk, he has misled the ignorant commoners to believe that he is greater than I, Leonius the Pure.  
  
I have seen him once, among his followers, dressed like a beggar--straw hat with a peasant's scythe in his hand, he donned robes blacked with soot. Supposedly a cheap imitation of the staff of power I have been given by my liege, King Rubedobarbos II the Just. He stood on a mound of mud (quite fitting for his sort of swine) and preached to his followers. I remember his pitiful sermon, word by word:  
  
"He who is evil suffers in this world  
  
and he suffers in the next world:  
  
the man who does evil suffers in both worlds.  
  
He suffers, he suffers and mourns when he sees  
  
the wrong he has done.  
  
He who is good is happy in this world  
  
and he is happy in the next world:  
  
the man who does good is happy in both worlds  
  
He is glad, he feels great gladness when he sees  
  
the good he has done.  
  
The crowds of followers cheered to that sermon, some were prostrating on the earth. "He who is evil suffers in this world?" How could that be possible, evildoers live carefree--without restraint they pursue to sate their vanity. It is the doers of good, such as myself, that must tirelessly destroy evil--this is suffering.  
  
Then I realized that Melanthropos was looking towards my direction, pointing his scythe towards my direction. I was hidden behind the foliage, so no one could see me, I was certain it was a mere coincidence that he was looking towards me--beside, he was more than 400 squares away. He orated,  
  
"If a man puts on the pure yellow robe with a soul which  
  
is impure, without self-harmony and truth, he is not  
  
worthy of the holy robe.  
  
As he said that, I ran back the kings palace. I entered my tower and ordered the guards to lock the gates for four-score days for meditation. I called my apprentices, Notos, Boleas, and Zepyros. I told them that a great threat to truth and harmony has come to us, and that Melanthropos has come to destroy the harmony of the Kingdom of His Majesty King Rubedobarbos II the Just.  
  
Notos in his blue robe, Boleas in his red robe, and Zepyros in his white robe kneeled in front of me, and said, "We are loyal to you, oh Master of Truth and Harmony, we are loyal to you, and to your liege, His Royal Majesty King Rubedobarbos II the Just."   
  
Since then, my three apprentices have left to destroy Melanthropos as I prayed for truth to aid them in their quest for Goodness. Now I await for their assured success.  
  
I heard a knock on the doors to my tower, the voice of Boleas was heard, "Oh Master of Truth and Harmony, I return to you along with Zepyros, but Notos of the Blue Robe is no longer with us."  
  
It was customary to not allow visitors in my tower during meditation, so I replied from behind the doors, "It is a shame to hear that my apprentice has fallen, but I am sure your act of vengeance along with his blood will be permanently be a part of the fabric of truth."  
  
Boleas replied in a somber tone, "Nay master, Notos did not leave us by means of the sword or sorcery, but through Words. He has abandoned your way and joined Melanthropos, oh Master of Truth and Harmony."  
  
I heard the voice of Zepyros, "Aye Master of Truth and Harmony, The Blue One has left us, and we have been unable to smite Melanthropos in the name of Truth and Harmony, and in the name of thy liege, His Royal Highness King Rubedobarbos II the Just."  
  
My mouth was agape with anger, "Then return you must, apprentices. For there be no Harmony unless Melanthropos is destroyed. And destroy you must, the Blue One, for he has strayed from the path of Truth."  
  
"Your words are wise, and we prostrate to your Truth and Harmony, we shall return to smite Melanthropos and Notos." Boleas said as he left.  
  
A score of days have come to pass, and again I heard a knock on the gates to my tower.  
  
The voice of Zepyros was heard, "Oh Master of Truth and Harmony, I return to you, but alas, Boleas of the Red Robe is no longer with us."  
  
I replied from beyond the gates, "It is a shame to hear that my apprentice has fallen, but I am sure your act of vengeance along with his blood will be permanently be a part of the fabric of truth."  
  
Zepyros replied in a somber tone, "Nay master, Boleas did not leave us by means of the sword or sorcery, but through Words. He has abandoned your way and joined Melanthropos, oh Master of Truth and Harmony."  
  
Zepyros continued, "Aye Master of Truth and Harmony, The Red One has left us, and we have been unable to smite Melanthropos in the name of Truth and Harmony, and in the name of thy liege, His Royal Highness King Rubedobarbos II the Just."  
  
My mouth was agape with anger, "Then return you must, apprentice. For there be no Harmony unless Melanthropos is destroyed. And destroy you must, the Red One along with the Blue One, for they have strayed from the path of Truth."  
  
"Your words are wise, and I prostrate to your Truth and Harmony, I shall return to smite Melanthropos, Notos, and Boleas." Zepyros said as he left.  
  
A score of days have come to pass, and again I heard a knock on the gates to my tower.  
  
I heard the voice of Notos the Blue Robed One, "Oh Leonius Argentinus, speaker of holy words, I have come to ask you to join me and my master, Melanthropos the Unhewn One."  
  
I replied in spite, "Oh Blue One, Betrayer to Truth, for what purpose have you to wish that I join thy master of falsehood?"  
  
In a somber tone, Notos replied, "I ask you to join us, for I love thee--for hate is not conquered by hate, hate is conquered by love. This is the eternal law for Truth and Harmony."  
  
In fury, I flung open the gates, Notos stood in surprise as I raised my staff of power. "You have been lost to the path of falsehood, Blue One. My love for thee is bygone, and within my heart, only hate is reserved for thee--for hate could only be destroyed with greater hate."  
  
I swung my staff of power at Notos, my rune of rage warmed as flames leapt from my staff, and Notos was burnt to sinters. I closed the gates to my tower and resumed my meditation.  
  
A score of days have come to pass, and again I heard a knock on the gates to my tower.  
  
I heard the voice of Boleas the Red Robed One, "Oh Leonius Argentinus, speaker of holy words, I have come to ask you to join me and my master, Melanthropos the Unhewn One."  
  
I replied in spite, "Oh Red One, Betrayer to Truth, for what purpose have you to wish that I join thy master of falsehood?"  
  
In a somber tone, Boleas replied, "I ask you to join us, for many do not know that we are here in this world to live in Harmony. Those who know this do not fight against each other."  
  
In fury, I flung open the gates, Boleas stood in awe as I raised my staff of power. "You have been lost to the path of falsehood, Red One. My love for thee is bygone, and within my heart, only hate is reserved for thee--for harmony could only be brought by smiting falsehood."  
  
I swung my staff of power at Notos, my rune of flowing warmed as torrents swept from my staff, engulfing Boleas and pulling him into the abyss. I close the gates to my tower and resumed my meditation.  
  
A score of days have come to pass, and again I heard a knock on the gates to my tower.  
  
I heard the voice of Zepyros the White Robed One, "Oh Leonius Argentinus, speaker of holy words, I have come to ask you..."  
  
I replied in spite, "Oh White One, Betrayer to Truth, for what purpose have you returned, or do you wish to meet the fate of your brothers?"  
  
In a somber tone, Zepyros replied, "I have returned to ask of you a favor, oh wise one."  
  
In fury, I flung open the gates, Zepyros stood in surprise as I raised my staff of power. "You have been lost to the path of falsehood, White One. My love for thee is bygone, and within my heart, only hate is reserved for thee!"  
  
I swung my staff of power at Notos, my rune of darkness warmed as shadows leapt from my staff, dragging Zepyros into the void. Zepyros screamed, "I only wished to inform, that I learned how to smite Melanthropos and proselytize my brothers..." and disappeared into the void.  
  
I stood dumbfounded as I realized what I have done, a voice suddenly called from behind me, a familiar voice--"  
  
"If a man speaks many holy words but he speaks and  
  
does not, this thoughtless man cannot enjoy the life of  
  
holiness: he is like a cowherd who counts the cows of his master."  
  
"Whereas if a man speaks but a few holy words and  
  
yet he lives the life of those words, free from passion  
  
and hate and illusion - with right vision and a mind  
  
free, craving for nothing both now and in the hereafter -   
  
the life of this man is a life of holiness."  
  
I stood with my back against the voice, I was afraid to turn back. I know it was Melanthropos. I replied, "And you call yourself the holy man, using words of honey-milk to seduce my apprentices, leading to their deaths?"  
  
"He who lives only for pleasures, and whose soul is not  
  
in harmony, who considers not the food he eats, is  
  
idle and has not the power of virtue - such a man is  
  
moved by evil, is moved by selfish temptations, even  
  
as an ancient tree is shaken by the wind."  
  
I turned back, soul raging with anger, "How dare you accuse me as an evildoer!"  
  
Then my eyes met his eyes, which gazed into me as if seeing through my soul.  
  
Melanthropos raised his Scythe, his black robes flowed with the breeze of the night. "Thy vanity was the death of your apprentices, oh Servant of Rubedobarbos II the Just, thy hate has brought upon them their doom, for hate can not defeat hate, it only feeds it as oil nourishes fire until its flames blind their own creator."  
  
"Nonsense, Champion of Falsehood! Eye to eye, tooth to tooth, hate to hate, fire to fire, that is the Truth, the Law, the bringer of Harmony!" I yelled as I prepared to smite him with my flames of indignation.  
  
Melanthropos stood there, standing like a scarecrow--ready to be burnt by my fire. Flames leapt from my Staff of Power and engulfed Melanthropos. I grimaced as my flames of truth destroyed falsehood.  
  
"Even as rain breaks through an ill-thatched house, passions will break through an ill-guarded mind..."  
  
The voice of Melanthropos echoed as I saw a golden form emerge from within the smoke of my flame. Melanthropos hovered in the air, wearing a radiant yellow robe. He gazed down at me, his eyes were filled with the compassion of a father.  
  
"I am the Master of Truth and Harmony!" I screamed as I called forth the powers of my runes, fire, water, and darkness. The red, blue, and black spheres of power all coalesced above me, and I raised my Staff of Power, commanding the destruction of Melanthropos. The spheres turned into spears and entwined as it shot at Melanthropos. As my Three-Colored Spear of Truth sot at Melanthropos, he raised his scythe and swing through the air--and the spear of Truth stopped mid air.  
  
"I am thy darkness, Leonius Argentinus. Thy untruth shall be your own undoing." Melanthropos said.  
  
My Spear of Truth suddenly shot back at me, piercing through my torso, I tasted blood in my mouth. The torrent of blood made it impossible for me to scream, but I saw Melanthropos float towards me with his scythe. His compassionate eyes signaled the end of my suffering. And all went dark as he swing his scythe of mercy.  
  
The End  
  
The man returned his quill to the inkwell as he reclined in his chair. He let out a deep sigh as he threw his head back.  
  
He gazed at the ceiling of his cabin--the ceiling was rife with cobwebs and dust. One shelf was located high up with no way to get up there. A few boxes were placed on the shelf, hidden in the darkness.  
  
The man grunted as he stood up and donned a coat, he threw a muffler around his neck as he exited his cabin.  
  
The air was cold outside--the man tucked his shoulders in as he walked down the steps from his porch. He walked in the darkness in this village littered with bricks and splintered wood. He navigated through the debris as if he had the path memorized...  
  
After a brief trek, the man arrived at a tavern, the tavern was silent. The man entered the tavern, and a voice called to him, "It's you, I'm ready to close for the night!." An old man stood behind a bar. He turned back and reached to a shelf from where he took three bottles of wine.  
  
"There you go, 30 potch," the old man pushed the bottles towards the man and held an open hand towards the man.  
  
The man gave 30 potch to the old man, "thanks," he said as he left the tavern. A voice called from behind, "you're welcome..."  
  
As the man left, he saw a figure standing in front of the tavern, a farmer with a scythe, wearing a straw hat. The man fell backwards into the tavern door as his eyes widened in surprise.  
  
"Sorry Leon, did I scare you old man?" the figure spoke.  
  
The man looked up, still shaken, "what are you doing here Blackman," the man's eyes were staring at the figure's scythe.  
  
"Whaddya mean Leon, I live' ere ya know, strange codger you are. Hey, need help?" Blackman said as he extended his hand.  
  
The man stood up without taking Blackman's hand -- "Thanks," he said.  
  
"Hey, you take care now, old man," Blackman smiled and his moustache moved with laughter, his red hair was unkempt. Blackman slammed the man in the back as he walked into the tavern, "'night Leon!" He said.  
  
The man, Leon, walked back to his cabin with his three bottles of wine.  
  
"I am not Leon, I am Leon Silverberg... I am a Silverberg, a SILVERBERG," he muttered to himself as he disappeared into the darkness of the ruined village. 


	3. Good and Evil

Neither in the sky, nor deep in the ocean, nor in a  
  
mountain-cave, nor anywhere, can a man be free  
  
from the power of death.  
  
The Dhammapada 9:128  
  
"Precentor Tar-Leon, please hear our words!" The deplorable villagers shouted.  
  
I was being encountered by a group of villagers as I traveled through the lands to meet the High Precentor at the domain of Nass. My carriage was forced to stop due to this annoying interference. What outrage! I even know what their plea is--to put an end to the rite of Prima Nocte. It was decreed by the High Precentor that the sanctity of Nass must be increased by making the blood of our fellow Nassians infused with that of His Holiness. This was done by having each newlywed bride taken to the chambers of His Holiness on the night of wedlock. This ensured that most children born would have holy blood coursing through their veins. It was said that His Holiness was able to maintain his youth through this rite, and thus the ritual was of supreme importance to the stability of Nass.  
  
"Precentor, please listen! I am the Mayor of Kamim, we beg you to take word with the High Precentor to stop the rite of Prima Nocte. Please, with your boundless compassion, understand us!" I didn't even see the man who spoke, but the voice was strong--probably around 40 years old. It was rare that Nassians lived beyond the age of 35.  
  
I contemplated what should be done, and I looked at the man sitting across from me. "Demi-Precentor Witham-Lok, the protocol please." The Demi-Precentor nodded and exited the carriage. I followed, dragging my robes.  
  
As I stepped out, I saw 20 or so persons standing behind one man. The man had a strong gaze, and looked at me earnestly. The Demi-Precentor bowed as looked towards the villagers, and the man knelt to the ground, followed by the rest of the villagers.  
  
"I am glad you have come out to speak with us, Precentor!" The man spoke.  
  
"What is your name, Mayor of Kamim?" I asked as I looked at him through my opaque mask.  
  
"I am Sar-Draknoel, your eminence," The man bowed.  
  
I walked towards Sar-Draknoel, and held my hand out, touching his chin. "I have heard of your words, and as Precentor I will write your words upon my tablet. His Holiness will read your very words, unaltered. However, for that you must pay your price."  
  
"I am ready to pay the price, your eminence." Sar-Draknoel said with his strong voice.  
  
"Very well..." I tipped my head at the Demi-Precentor. The Demi-Precentor gave me a clay tablet with the words of Sar-Draknoel. He then pulled out a obsidian dagger and walked towards Sar-Draknoel...  
  
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After some travel, Witham-Lok and myself arrived at the palace of His Holiness, the High Precentor. The pillars to the Eternal Temple were glimmering with might as we climbed its wide, ancient steps. The ascent was always challenging due to the 333 steps to the top, and the fact that none were allowed to tread upon the steps before high noon.  
  
Once within, audience was granted immediately. Huge statues of Gods and Goddesses lined either wall, and the ceiling was too tall to be seen. I proceeded, stopping in front of each statue to pay my respects to the Gods.  
  
As I proceeded, I realized the Demi-Precentor was not behind me. I looked back and saw that he was in deep contemplation in front of the Goddess Urtvas-Bethud. I walked back and stood with him in contemplation. As the Demi-Precentor awoke from his contemplation, I asked, "What did Urtvas-Bethud reveal to you, Demi-Precentor Witham-Lok?"  
  
"Precentor Tar-Leon, Urtvas-Bethud revealed the coming of the reaping man, who will reap the unreapable." Witham-Lok said with a furrowed brow. "the reaping man"... it doesn't sound like a good omen. If the Goddess of the Hearth, Urtvas-Bethud has spoken, the results will affect our everyday life. Nevertheless I must hurry to the High Precentor.  
  
The two of us arrived at the Holy of Holies where the High Precentor sat in contemplation for centuries.  
  
"High Precentor, we have come with the census of your holy year 44,133. We also have brought you a sealed consignment from Sar-Draknoel, Mayor of Kamim!" I proclaimed as I entered. The Holy of Holies was a huge empty room. In the center was a small veiled room, wherein was the Throne of Saud, where the High Precentor sat in perpetual contemplation with the Gods. A small obsidian altar was placed in front of the veiled chamber.  
  
"Proceed forward, Precentor Tar-Leon. Produce the consignment tablet and the token of faith." I proceeded to the central sanctum and placed the consignment tablet with Sar-Draknoel's words. I placed this year's census beside it, and placed the "token" on top of the tablet. The "token" was wrapped in cotton cloth. The Demi-Precentor proceeded to unwrap the cloth in the prescribed order, and the heart of Sar-Draknoel was revealed. The heart had all its blood removed and was already cleansed by the Demi-Precentor.  
  
A blinding flash was emitted from the veiled chamber and the veil vanished, revealing the High Precentor, Chthon. His long white hair and deceivingly young face made it difficult to tell if he was a man or a woman. His eyes were dark and bottomless as clean-hewn obsidian. He stood up from the Throne of Saud and walked to the altar, a slight smile was on his blood-red lips. "I thank you, Precentor Tar-Leon, for the census that you have brought. And a consignment tablet from a Sar-Draknoel? Interesting..."  
  
The High Precentor grabbed the heart and kissed it, he laid it on the altar and read the tablet. I watched as he read the tablet, and saw his tranquil expression change to that of anger. "The peasants wish me to stop the rite of Prima Nocte!! How dare they place their own petty concerns over the concern of Nass!" The High Precentor threw the tablet down on the floor. The clay tablet shattered into a dozen pieces.  
  
I was shocked, "High Precentor, even if the consignment is blasphemous, one must not destroy a consignment. Surely Lak-Ezlok the God of Contracts will be furious?"  
  
High Precentor Chthon yelled in fury, "Silence! I am the law, Tar-Leon! Do not defy me for I am the representative of the Gods!! The Prima Nocte is necessary! The Domain of Nass will cease to be without my eternal rule!"  
  
I replied, "Impossible, none is above the Edicts of Saud, the God Most High. To disrespect a tokened consignment is blasphemy to Saud Himself."  
  
Chthon glared at me, "You defy me again? Demi-Precentor Witham-Lok, kill the Precentor."  
  
Witham-Lok replied in confusion, "Kill the Precentor?"  
  
Chthon growled, "Yes, kill him! This is an order Demi-Precentor. Kill the blasphemer Tar-Leon and take his place. Reign as Precentor of Nass-Palor!"  
  
I turned towards Witham-Lok. His Demi-Precentor mask hid his emotion, but the temptation of promotion moved his hands towards the hilt of his obsidian dagger. The dagger departed from its sheath. The unsheathing of the stone dagger left a dragging echo in the wide room.  
  
"Please don't resist Precentor," The Precentor-to-be said. No way! To die like this is simply not worth it. As it says in the Scrolls of Landak-Pnath, "Defeat never leads to Victory, but Retreat could lead to a further Victory." I beckoned the power of my Blinking rune to take me away. As Witham-Lok charged at me, I disappeared in a shimmer.  
  
I recovered from the blinking rune, and realized that I was still in the Holy of Holies. I was at the end of the room, on the far side from the entrance.  
  
"You can not run from here, betrayer against Saud!" Chthon laughed as he proclaimed. I saw Witham-Lok running towards me. I did not hesitate to use my Rune of Hate. I clasped my hands and unleashed the flames of fury. The ball of flame roared towards Witham-Lok. Witham-Lok tried to dodge it by stepping sideways, but I moved my left fist to the side, making the ball of flame change course.  
  
A furious explosion erupted as the fiery sphere collided with Witham-Lok. As the flames subsided, nothing remained of Witham-Lok. I walked towards the center, and realized that Witham-Lok's obsidian dagger was lying on the floor. I picked it up and continued. The High Precentor must die for this. He has broken the holiest code and led Witham-Lok astray.  
  
I saw Chthon appear from behind the throne. He held an obsidian sword in his right hand. He smiled as he drew a rune in the air. He was casting "Silent Lake." Not good, without the use of runes it would be difficult to have a chance against the High Precentor... I better run for the door.  
  
I dashed towards the door, but I had to get past Chthon before getting to the door. I tried to confuse him by changing directions, but he was faster than me. I drew my own dagger and held it in my right hand, while I held Witham-Lok's dagger in my left. As I closed into Chthon, he swung his obsidian sword at me from the left. I blocked it with Witham-Lok's dagger and trusted my dagger towards Chthon. Just as my dagger would have hit his body, he vanished, and reappeared a few feet in front of me. So he bears a Hazy Rune, more bad news for me.  
  
"You can not escape, Tar-Leon. The Gods are angered by your defiance.  
  
"The Gods are angry of YOUR defiance, Chthon!" I replied as I ran towards the throne. Chthon followed me like a ghost. I stood beside the throne, trying to gain a chance to run by using the throne. He struck again with his sword, I barely blocked it with my dagger. I felt the blade chip as the force of the blow vibrated within the stone blade. My dagger definitely can't take much more abuse.  
  
I darted for the altar as I dodged Chthon's swing from above. He immediately vanished and appeared in front of the altar. I picked up a piece of the broken tablet and threw it at Chthon. It hit him in the chest. I didn't let this chance go and darted past him... or so I thought. I realized the cold blade of the obsidian sword inside my abdomen. I fell down on the altar as Chthon placed his shoes on my torso to use it as a lever to withdraw his sword. My mask fell off as I felt the jagged edge of his stone-sword gouge my flesh, but strangely there was no pain. I was unable to move on the altar.  
  
Beside my head was the heart of Sar-Draknoel, as I stared at the lifeless heart, I suddenly saw the heart move again. So I have started to hallucinate! I must really be dying then, damn.  
  
My life was not that bad though, I had my good days and bad days, but my life has been dedicated to the Edicts of Saud. My life followed the path of goodness as prescribed by Saud. I have nothing to regret. Let death take me within its wings of undiscriminating compassion and bliss.  
  
Suddenly I heard a voice from the throne, "Precentor Tar-Leon, I am Saud, Champion of Truth. I command you--eat the heart of Sar-Draknoel. Take it within you, make it a part of you..."   
  
What the... more hallucinations!? But if it was Saud Himself... I felt faith pumping the last essence of life into my heart. I moved my body towards the heart of Sar-Draknoel and took a bite out of it. As I chewed on the flesh, a divine sweetness spread throughout my mouth... and kept spreading throughout my body. I felt bliss, and then all was darkness.  
  
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------  
  
I woke up amidst a field of wild flowers, I heard the singing of children. The sky was blue--cloudless as crystal. I felt my soul cleansed by the soft cool breeze. I was in Elysium.  
  
"The sun ate the moon's heart,  
  
Hail, let the morning come!  
  
The moon ate the sun's heart,  
  
Hail, let the night come!  
  
I saw children singing and dancing in a circle. One of them looked towards me and stopped dancing. Other children crashed into him as their circular dance was interrupted.  
  
As I stood up, I realized I was wearing a straw hat, and beside me on the ground lay a huge scythe. One of the children shouted, "It's Sar-Draknoel!!" The other children screamed and they all ran away towards a village in the distance.  
  
Sar-Draknoel? Me? I then understood. Eating the heart of Sar-Draknoel somehow made me into Sar-Draknoel. It didn't really make sense, but it was divine intervention, anything goes, right? I started walking towards the village.  
  
As I proceeded towards the village, an old woman mounted on a horse came towards me. As she got closer she called out, "Sar-Draknoel, you have returned from the dead!"  
  
She stopped in front of me. I told the old woman, "I am not Sar-Draknoel." She dismounted and walked towards me. "Many years have passed and you have forgotten me Sar-Draknoel. I am your wife, Nora. But you say you are not Sar-Draknoel? Are you a ghost or a demon who has come to mock me?"  
  
I explained everything to her. How I was Precentor Tar-Leon, and how the High Precentor has "killed me" and how Saud has commanded me to take the heart of Sar-Draknoel within me.  
  
Nora was befuddled after hearing the story. "So you are Precentor Tar-Leon... but you are also not Tar-Leon as you have taken in the heart of my husband. As is customary in this land, you must call yourself by a name that is backwards of your current form. From now on, you will be known as Leonkard-Ras. I welcome you to my village, Leonkard-Ras."  
  
Leonkard-Ras... I felt an odd feeling as I suddenly remembered what Witham-Lok told me, "the coming of the reaping man, who will reap the unreapable." I looked at my scythe and remembered the strong voice of Sar-Draknoel. Am I the one?  
  
I felt my heart pump faster as if Sar-Draknoel was answering "yes," that moment my purpose became clear. I will destroy Chthon and let him embrace death, even if I die, my heart will be passed on. I gripped my scythe as I looked at the clear blue sky.  
  
The End  
  
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------  
  
Leon laid his quill to rest as he placed it in the inkwell. Letting out a sigh, Leon stretched his aching body. He has been writing for hours and his body was quite stiff.  
  
Leon grunted as he stood up, and grabbed a bottle of wine from his desk. He walked towards the fireplace and added some firewood. Slowly lowering his body onto a dusty sofa, he reached towards a side table and grabbed a dirty goblet.  
  
Leon started pouring wine into the goblet. He filled it to the top, and some wine spilled on the desk. He brought his mouth to the cup so no more wine will spill. He sipped the wine as his moustache floated on the red wine. He then lifted the goblet and made a toast at the fireplace.  
  
In a muffled voice, Leon said, "May Leonkard-Ras die a horrible death!" and drank down the wine. 


	4. The Flower of Life

"He who knows that this body is the foam of a wave, the shadow of mirage, he breaks the sharp arrows of the devil, concealed in the flowers of sensuous passions and, unseen by the King of death, he goes on and follows his path."  
  
--The Dhammapada 4:46  
  
"Please Kyleon, you will come back?" Lilianna said as she looked at me, her fair skin of velvet flushed from running after me. Her pronounced brows arched in concern as her emerald-green eyes pleaded for me to stay.  
  
I looked at Lilianna, behind her was Blackthorn Château, where her father, Ac Hague ruled as Lord. As I looked at the chateau glimmering like ivory or platinum in the sun, I remembered that I had to leave this fair castle to accomplish my quest.  
  
"I must leave milady, but I shall return," I looked away as I said that, and started walking away.  
  
"Wait, Kyleon!" Lilianna called out. She ran past me and stood in front of me, her curly red-brown hair slightly disheveled from the sudden run. I stopped walking and looked at her. As I looked at her, her gaze shifted and she looked down, her cheek blushing.  
  
She held her right arms forward and held out an A silver amulet in the shape of a rose. She started talking, her eyes tightly shut, "I held this for a fortnight, praying every night to God for your safety. Please take this and think of it as I."  
  
"Thank you milady, but I am not of noble blood. Surely there are others who are worthy of such honor." I said. Lilianna fell down powerlessly--she sat down looking down at the earth. I walked around her and kept going.  
  
"Kyleon, after you return, will you..." Lilianna spoke in a near whisper.  
  
Stopping amid my steps, I said, "As I said, milady, I am not of noble blood."  
  
I walked away, and she no longer called for me.  
  
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------  
  
Many years have passed since I left Blackthorne Château. I have finally completed my quest after endless acts of combat and valour. I have retrieved what my lord has asked for, and I am finally on my way home to my liege, Lord Ac Hague.  
  
On my way back, I heard stories of wars raging to the south--the direction of my Lord's domain. I hastened the pace of my steed as my heart pumped in angst for the safety of my liege and the fair lady Lilianna. How unforgivable that I may not have been present at tumultuous times to protect my liege? I must return fast, as the first wind of Autumn...  
  
As I raced back, my premonitions were verified--I heard rumors that Blackthorne Chateau has been raided by a band of mercenaries years ago. Further rumors confirmed that these ruffians have killed Lord Ac Hague, but I was unable to find anything on lady Lilianna.   
  
Twoscore days have passed and I finally arrived at my Lord's domain, the sentry who should have been present at the border gate was not present and the ramparts were abandoned. My fears were confirmed when I saw sun-dried bones scattered on the ground. Various pieces of armor lay strewn. I rode on.  
  
I came upon a village where I watered my steed and replenished my supplies. There I was told by locals that the current lord of the domain is called, "The Whore of Argenta Rossa." This "lord" was apparently the leader of the mercenaries that raided the domain of my Lord Ac Hague, and is also called the "Mercenary Queen."  
  
I was also told that she was a formidable warrior who held tournaments every month, in which she herself participated. She has been undefeated so far, and all her opponents met a gruesome death. Locals also told me that, "After she draws out her enemy's entrails, she covers herself in their blood, and other mercenaries join her in a mad orgy." I asked the locals whether they have heard anything about Lady Lilianna, but all I was able to gather was that she was imprisoned shortly after Lord Ac Hague was killed. I left the village and continued to the heart of the domain--to Blackthorne Chateau.  
  
After a few days of travel, I finally arrived at Blackthorne Chateau, or what it used to be. The towers and walls of the castle were same as I recall, but the town itself seems to have transformed. A huge arena was in the middle, and as I entered, the streets were filled with the stench of decay and cheap perfume, creating a nauseating effect. Brothels were everywhere, and men half-clad in armor roamed the streets with harlots on both arms. I have seen such places in my travels, but I realized that even the harlots were armed with various weapons. A few persons, men, women, children, laid dead on some corners of the streets, in some cases the carcass has become a breeding ground for various vermin, which only worsened the already pandemonic visage.  
  
I entered what seemed like an Inn, as I entered, I saw naked persons sprawled across the red carpeted floors, lounging on huge pillows and smoking various sorts of roots, drinking the fermented brew of soma, and engaging in various animalistic vices. In the center there was a fountain, seemingly filled with soma, and red curtains hung from the ceiling. I ignored all this and walked passed them. A few of them eyed me suspiciously as a fully clothed man as myself probably stood out, but they were generally docile. I managed to navigate through the feast of flesh and arrived at what seemed like a bar. I asked the only clothed man behind the bar, probably the bartender, whether he knew about Lady Lilianna.  
  
The bartender jumped back as I asked the question, and slowly looked at my body from top to bottom, as if sizing me up. "Too bad you're wearing clo-othes!" He yelled in a high voice. He then waved towards the multitudes of naked persons on the floor, "This gentleman wants to know about Lilianna!"  
  
Laughter erupted immediately from all of those in the room, half mixed with groans of ecstasy. The bartender looked at me, "You must be an outsider, didn't you know? Lilianna is the prize for the tournament!"   
  
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------  
  
"Kyleon is the victor!" a judge proclaimed as the crowd roared. I drew my sword out of the neck of my foe and raised it above my head.  
  
It was easy to get into the arena battle, and my opponents were no match for my sword of earnest skill. Their attacks were all disturbed by the soma in their blood. Without much of any challenge, I defeated my last opponent before the final battle.  
  
The crowds cheered again as my last opponent entered--as she entered, I was shocked. The Whore of Argenta Rossa wore a straw hat garnished with red flowers and peacock feathers, her hair was a fiery red, curled as her wretched soul. Her face was beautiful beyond words, but I was able to see from this distance that practiced the "arts of the fallen angels" which allowed women to make themselves appear more comely by applying various secret ointments and balms. She was unclad other than a gruesome scythe in her right hand, and a small target shield on her left. Her body was unmarred, which betrayed her various titles. Her skin was fair as the winter snow, pale as death. She smiled as she advanced towards me in a seductive gait, but I took no note of that. Only the thought of saving Lady Lilianna kept me sane.  
  
Both of us stood in the middle, a space of about 30 lexes separated us. The crowds grew silent... then a gong was heard.  
  
I was dumbstruck as the Whore of Argenta Rossa threw the giant scythe at me. She ran towards me as the huge sickle hurtled towards me. I sidestepped the scythe, but she suddenly moved her left arm back, and the sickle changed its course--I then realized that a think cord connected her arm and the sickle. I quickly leapt back a few steps as the scythe zipped past me and returned to the Mercenary Queen.  
  
I lashed out with my sword as she caught the scythe. Surely catching such a heavy weapon would have forced her to catch it with both hands, creating an opportunity of attack on her torso. However, she did not catch the scythe. Instead she flipped back with incredible dexterity and then caught it, making me miss wildly. I lost balance, and the whore did not let the chance go by, she ran towards me and tried to punch me. I dodged her attack by bending my body, but I felt pain as her fists passed beside the side of my torso. I leapt back and saw that I was bleeding, a mere scratch, but I was quite sure I dodged it. I then looked at her and saw her licking blood off of her long nails--made of steel.  
  
I glared at her in disgust... and then I suddenly saw something on her neck... a necklace with an ornament in the shape of a silver rose. A silver rose... the face of Lady Lilianna flashed in my face as words from years ago were remembered, "I held this for a fortnight, praying every night to God for your safety. Please take this and think of it as I." I ought not have refused her gift, but...  
  
"Where did you get that, where is Lady Lilianna!?" I roared at the whore as I pointed at her necklace with my sword.  
  
"Kill me, and you can meet her," she said in a deep, husky voice. She waved her scythe at me, beckoning me to attack. I was filled with fury as I realized how this wretch must have taken away milady's precious token. I charged at her with indignation.  
  
A unleashed a blur of steel. My sword-skills honed through the years and tested by myriads of beasts were displayed. The Mercenary Queen was extremely adept with her scythe as well, and mixed her flurry of attacks with feints involving her nails of steel. The crowds roared as they reveled in the display of our extreme skill.  
  
The Whore of Argenta Rossa suddenly laughed as she stepped to the side, her scythe extended towards me, "do you wish to know what I have done to your precious Lilianna, Sir Kyleon?" The whore grimaced, her blood-red lips seemed arch all the way to her ears, seemingly unable to wait to continue with her grotesque story-telling.  
  
The whore sneered, "I had her fucked. All my men, they all took turns and fucked her to death. How about that Sir Knight, a fine story to bring to your Lord Ac Hague in heaven?"  
  
She let out a shrill laugh that echoed through the arena.  
  
All was lost. What is left to do if she was befouled and killed? What else is there... what purpose is there for a knight without a lord? Of course, revenge... I will take Lady Lilianna's silver rose from that whore and hold it with me till the time of my death. I held my sword and rushed towards her, screaming with rage, I unleashed my entire being at her. As I landed my blow from above her, she held her scythe up, but my blade of vengeance cut through the shaft, and I felt the feeling of steel rending flesh. The crowd roared in disbelief as the Whore of Argenta Rossa fell to the ground, a deep gash extending from her shoulders to her chest.  
  
The Queen fell to the dirt, and I planted my sword into the earth and walked towards her to take the silver rose. I looked at her face as I tried to remove her necklace.  
  
Tears? I saw tears at the edge of her eyes, she looked at me with her emerald-green eyes. I went ahead with removing her necklace, I saw the judge wandering around in confusion as he wondered what to announce. I finally removed the necklace, and I looked at her face again to hurl my last word of indignation.  
  
That moment I was cast into the bowls of hell for eternity.  
  
The tears washed away her "art of the fallen angels," revealing the face of she who I sought for all this time, her emerald-blue eyes and pronounced brows...  
  
"Lady Lilianna?" I said, knowing the answer--I hoped that she will tell me I was wrong.   
  
She spoke to me in the very same voice that I have forgotten for all these years, "you finally realized, stupid man... stupid, stupid man."  
  
"What have I done!?" I felt tears flowing from my eyes, I frantically tried to see if Lilianna's wound was not a mortal wound. As I was confounded, Lilianna spoke, "fuck you Kyleon, what did you think of me... how long I have waited for you, and you don't even recognize me... stupid me!" Lilianna laughed briefly, but coughed out blood.  
  
I quickly caressed her, calling her name.  
  
Lilianna pushed me away with whatever strength she still had, "Don't touch me, you're just like the rest of them. You never loved me Kyleon, you only loved what you thought I was, a pure, innocent young girl. A damsel in distress right? You never knew I would have been strong enough to hold my own, even after years of being used as a vessel of pleasure... strong enough to hold out even against you? Fuck you Kyleon, stupid me to have waited for you all this time... stupid me."  
  
She then turned her head towards me, her eyes looked into mine. Her lips moved, "And I am stupid, really stupid to still love you."  
  
I held her again, she did not push me away... and then I realized that her heart was no longer moving. I lowered her body onto the ground, her face was smiling. Nothing else mattered anymore. Everything was absurd, nothing remained. I walked towards the scythe that lay on the ground, I stuck the opposite end of its head into the ground--spreading my arms, I fell onto the blade. Nothing mattered anymore.  
  
The End  
  
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------  
  
Leon laid his quill to rest, he immediately stood up and walked towards a pile of rubbish at a corner of his cabin. Piles of dirty clothes lay strewn, and Leon dug through it in search of something. After rummaging through the rubbish, he finally found what he was looking for, a cork-screw with a head in the shape of a silver rose.  
  
"Here you are my friend!" Leon said. He then walked towards his table, where his bottle of wine waited for him to be opened. 


	5. In Darkness

When acts of devotion are carelessly performed  
  
when sacred vows are broken, and when one's life is  
  
corrupted, no great fruit can come from such a life.  
  
The Dhammapada 22:312  
  
"Leon, what sort of rubbish is this? I can not possibly publish this!" A slender man in a purple suit said as he stroked his goatee. Leon sat on the other side of this man's desk in a small office in Kirov.  
  
"Perhaps this short story on this gladiator whore and this knight's love affair, but the ending is just not the type of stuff people want to read, do you understand Leon?" The man looked into Leon's face with a fake smile, enriched with a touch of arrogance. "You know Leon, I worry about you very much, I know that drinking helps with imagination!" The man laughed out a fake laugh, "but you could end up getting sick."  
  
The man continue as he crossed his legs behind his huge desk. "Anyways, this story about the precentor and all that, and well, the whole lot is quite frankly RUBBISH Leon. You might be able to rework that knight and whore story. Just add a little more romance and sex. And why does all of your story hjave top end with a scythe wielding freak killing the protagonist? It makes mo sense Leon." The man looked down at Leon with a fake compassionate gaze.  
  
"You have to undertstand Leon, you are a writer, a writer of romance novels for them sleazy Scarlet Moon nobles. Do you understand? You are not a poet, you are not an artist, you are a commercial writer! Do you UNDERSTAND! Now, produce some genuine smut for me or I'm going to be forced to discommision you. Get it?" The man concuded his speech in frustration.  
  
"Sorry Chaz, I... I just got carried away," Leon muttered.  
  
"You better be sorry for wasting my time. Being your literary agent is surely the work for a social worker! The Verdricci-Oppenheimer Publishing company is getting quite pissed off at me, they think I'm selling your work to thosmerchants of Zexen instead... so you better get something done soon or I'll be fucked." The man called Chaz slammed his hand on his desk, "do you understand!?"  
  
"I understand Chaz..." Leon said as he looked down.  
  
"You know what, you really ought to change locations. Why in the hell do you like to write in that shit town Kalekka? I can't think how that backwater delapidated village could be an inspiration for tales of romance! You need to move south, perhaps to the Kunan area. I have friends Leon." Chaz said as he smiled a fake smile.  
  
"Thanks Chaz, I'll think about it..." Leon said.  
  
"Okay then, VOP wants a draft in by next month so get something to me by next Monday. We'll then take qa look at it, okay?"  
  
"Okay Chaz, I'll get something to you by then..." Leon said as he stood up. He adjusted his scarf to prepare himself for the cold Kirov street winds and put his hands on the doorknob. Chaz called from behind, "Do you still see your wife, Leon?"  
  
"Everytime I visit Kirov, Chaz." Leon said as he looked back at Chaz. He then left the office."  
  
Kirov was a town renown for its maze-like streets and closely built homes which was literally built on top of each other. Laundry hung from lines far above and the narrow alleys were filled with trash that residents from above simply disposed their trash from their windows. The alleyway was pungent with the stench of decay as Leon trudged towards the main street.  
  
"My name is Leon... I am a..." Leon mumbled to himself as he passed under wet laundry. A droplet of water fell on his scarf. Leon stopped and watched the water spread on the texture of his cotton scarf.  
  
"Water, water... giver of life, killer of life, giveth and teketh, salty, blue, deep, both an obstacle and an endless path, fish, seaweed..." Leon continued to mumble as if brainstorming. He then shouted, "Aqua, aqua vita! Water of life, haha!" He hastily left the alley as if he was hit with a sudden inspiration.  
  
Leon arrived at the main street. The street was not very crowded seeing that it was already dusk. Leon crossed the wide street onto the other side and entered another alley. After a short while he came to a wooden door on the side of a building. Leon pushed the door open.  
  
"Well, it's General Leon, what's up dirty old man!" A young woman behind a bar said brashly as Leon entered. Leon entered the small bar, there weren't many other customers inside the bar. Leon eyed the other customers wearily as he walked towards the bar. One of the customers yelled, "So are you a General today or a King, or a beggar perhaps?" Laughter erupted from the other customers, one man stood up and saluted Leon and the laughter grew even more.  
  
Leon looked at the men in an angered gaze, "I was never a beggar!" He said.  
  
The man who saluted Leon looked at the other man who called Leon a beggar and said, "Hey Gary, looks like you angered the General! your ass is gonna be court-martialed now eh?" The other men laughed.  
  
"Hey, don't even go there pal, no one's martialing anything up my ass, especially this old faggot geezer!" The laughter grew louder. The woman behind the counter protested, "Hey guys, that's enough for teasing the poor guy!"  
  
A huge guy in a butcher apron stood up, "We not teasin' barmaid! Me wife told me this old geezer always visit that purple-suit wearin' freak's flat. We all know that freak's a queer one, dirty geezer!"  
  
"Paul, enough! Get out!" The barmaid said, "Out of my bar, right now!"  
  
"Did I hear the little girl say something?" Paul the butcher said in a funny voice.  
  
"I said, GET OUT!" The barmaid said as she pulled out a crossbow from behind the bar.  
  
"Shit!" Paul the bucther said as he rushed out of the bar.  
  
The barmaid then aimed at the other men, "The rest of you, get out as well, assholes!"  
  
"Okay okay Irena, we'll go," tha man called Gary said as he raised his hands with a wry smile on his face. "Lets get out of this dump chaps!"  
  
As Gary passed beside Leon, Leon suddenly assulted Gary. "No one calls me a beggar, no one!" Leon took Gary by suprise and smacked Gary right on his nose. Gary flew backwards from the force and crashed into a table. A few chairs were knocked down as he violently slammed down on the floor. The other men looked in amazement at this sudden display of violence.  
  
"Fuck, my nose is broke!" Gary shouted as he touched his bloody nose. He tried to wake his body but fell again.  
  
"You guys better carry him home, this oughtta teach ya to not pick fights!" Irena said as she laughed. The men picked Gary up from the floor and left the bar hastily.  
  
"I've seen you in here a couple of times, but I never knew you could stand your own like that Leon, here, take this," Irena said as she placed a glass of "Aqua Vita" on the bar for Leon.  
  
Irena looked at Leon as if expecting some reply, but Leon grasped the glass and started drinking as if posessed. "You know, people often talk about you, they say that you are Leon Silverberg, the Scarlet Moon Empire military strategist we all heard about during that horrible Succession War. So who are you, old man?"  
  
Leon stopped gulping down his drink, his moustasche drenched with the misty liquor. "I am a writer, not a strategist," He said.  
  
"A writer? Wow, I wouldn't have expected that from you." Irena said. "What type of stuff do you write?"  
  
"Romance," Leon said as he resumed gulping down his liquor. Irena's dark brown eyes widened.  
  
"You're full of suprises aren't you? You write romance novels? Which one?"  
  
Leon replied, "Gone with the True Wind Rune, The Emperor and I, The Fire Hero's Harem..."  
  
"You wrote all that?" Irena gawked. "I've heard of 'Gone with the True Wind Rune.' I think it was a story about a young apprentice magician boy being 'trained' by his blind female mentor.... I remember reading it and thinking only a woman could write this stuff."  
  
Leon lifted his glass of Aqua Vita and gazed at it for a while. The small glass seemed to glow from within--the lazy aquamarine fluid swaying inside--refracting the lamplights. Irena saw the green glass reflected in Leon's dark eyes, like a venomous mist obscuring his soul.  
  
"I'm a writer, too," Irena said. "I've written no novels yet, but I plan to. That's why I am a barmaid."  
  
Leon drank the rest of his drink and pushed the glass towards Irena. He then shoved his hand into his coat's pocket and tok out a 10 potch coin, laying it on the bar.  
  
"Leaving already?" Irena said. "You chased out all my other patrons, you better be a good customer.  
  
"Sorry," Leon said, and promptly left the bar.  
  
It was already dark outside, Leon wandered towards the main street, stumbling on a pile of empty crates on the way. Leon fell forward and struck the ground with his shoulders. He grunted as he stood up--the shoulder of his coat and scarf muddied. He walked ahead uncaring.  
  
Leon proceeded on the dark main street of Kirov. The shops lining the main street were quiet and asleep. Leon looked towards the sky and saw that it was cloudy and starless. He then looked at the palm of his hand--it was muddy. Shifting his gaze to the ground he saw that he didn't have a shadow. Leon started walking again.  
  
Leon walked a few dozen minutes and arrived at a church that overlooked Lake Toran. He trudged beside the church and headed to a small graveyard behind it. The graveyard had about three dozen tomb stones, all fashioned with gruesome death-heads. Leon proceeded to a tomb at one corner of the graveyard. As he proceeded, he saw that the clouds revealed the moon, showering rays of silver through the mist of Lake Toran. Moonlight wavered on the lake like a broad band of white velvet extending towards eternity. Leon stood in front of the one tomb, which read, "Here lies the legendary Water Fox, Kilawher Schulen."  
  
Leon mumbled inaudibly as if annoyed. He rubbed some moss off of the tombstone using his soiled scarf. He then gazed at the tombstone as if remembering something. Leon stood there for a moment while mist drifted across his face--droplets condensing on his mustasche. His face was emotionless and it was hard to tell whether his eyes were open or closed. After a good twenty minutes, Leon's scarf had droplets all over, and his face was moist. He then left the graveyard, walking into the darkness of the Kirov night. 


	6. Forsake Anger

There never was, there never will be,  
  
nor is there now, a man whom men always blame, or a man  
  
man whom they always praise.  
  
The Dhammapada 17:228  
  
"How long ago was it when I saw her for the first time?"  
  
I often think of this question at times of peace when there are no battles to occupy my mind with. It seems like she came into my life so gradually, that I have never even noticed that she has come to be. Her entry was as subtle as the Toran mist in the darkness of the new moon.  
  
She was always there for as far as I remember, or perhaps it was just my imagination. I recall seeing her at every street corner, in every class at Gregminster Military Academy. She at every ball I attended, but yet I never quite knew who she was, and I never quite cared who she was. She was just one of those people who you know by sight but never quite "knew," and whether I knew her or not was inconsequential. However, destiny weaves threads in the most curious of manners as I discovered during my short tenure as Army Strategist under the Emperor.  
  
I sat in my office given to me by the Emperor. Back then his forces were pushed all the way to Pannu Yakuta, and I was given a makeshift office from which I issued commands to all branches of the Emperor's forces. On that particular day I was conducting interviews for officer candidates for a new division to be created in the army. I recall looking at records on each candidate and screaming in dismay as I viewed at the inadequacy. I rejected all of the condidates until I came to a candidate by the name of Kilawher.  
  
"Next candidate enter!" I yelled at the door as I shuffled through some papers.  
  
The door opened as I looked at Kilawher's records, "Expert on ice magic, defended a village single-handedly against raiding minotaurs, quenched numerous fires in Gregminster and Lenankamp, various medals from dueling tourneys, etc etc." As I looked up expecting a burly man in armor like Kwanda Rossman, what I saw was a lightly armored woman, blonde and green-eyed, but with the presence of a trained killer.  
  
"Sir Leon Silverberg, Kilawher at your service, sir." She said with a sharp, crisp voice.  
  
I recognized her immediately as that girl who I always saw, but took little note of. Ofcourse, I never would have thought she would show herself in such a manner. And ofcourse I never anticipated what happened next.  
  
Suddenly the door burst open behind Kilawher and a man clad in black entered with his sword unsheathed. "Leon Silverberg, die!" The man shouted as he knocked Kilawher aside and strode towards me. I quickly ducked as the man's sword pierced the wall above my head. I dashed to the side as I drew my sword (which I only knew how to use only from what I read from my books). The man removed his sword from the wooden walls, and struck his sword at me, which I blocked with my sword. He struck again quickly with greater strength and I heard my sword break. As I saw the broken end of my sword in amazement, the man raised his sword one more time in a final attempt to stab me. However, as he started to lash his sword at me he collapsed to the floor. I gasped as I pushed myself away from the man.  
  
"He is dead, Sir Leon," Kilawher said as her eyes glimmered coldly in the bluest green I ever saw.  
  
I said, "But, how?"  
  
Kilawher revealed an Ice Rune on her right hand and said, "No man can live with a frozen heart." She then stood up and extended her hand to me, as I was still on the floor. I took her hand--it felt as touching the finest gossamer. I was suprised as she righted me with little effort. It didn't take me much more convincing to accept her as the new commander for the new division, which later came to be known as the "Frozen Rose."  
  
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Leon stopped his pen and went back to the first page of the manuscript. He then crossed out his name and Kilawher's and violently stood up, rattling the empty bottles of liquor on his table. He let out an angered yell as he brushed all the bottles on his tables aside. The bottles smashed against the wall next to the table in a violent orchestra crescendo of destruction.  
  
Leon then took his manuscript and crumpled it up, casting it into the fireplace. He threw a log into the fire as the manuscript wrinkled into ashes. Leon stared at the burned remnant as it deteriorated into powder, "Just like how I scattered you into Toran huh?" Leon laughed.  
  
As Leon madly stared into the fire, he heard a pounding noise from the door. It sounded like someone with a huge metalic object--like a scythe--was pounding on the door. Leon rushed behind his desk in fear, kicking fraqgments of broken bottles on his way. "I'm busy!" Leon yelled.  
  
A familiar voice yelled back, "Blackman here, you have a young lady lookin' for you so I brought her here! Come out here!"  
  
Leon's worry was lessened upon hearing that the visitor was Blackman. However, he was weary of having visitors. "Come back tomorrow, whomever you are!" Leon yelled back.  
  
"Leon, this is Irena, I brought you some Aqua Vita," As if disarmed by Irena's voice, Leon walked towards the door. "Did you say 'Aqua Vita'?" Leon asked desperately.  
  
"Yes, just for you Leon, now open the door!" Irena's voice turned into mock anger, and Leon hurried to the door with a smile, muttering to himself, "Aqua Vita, heh heh." Leon opened the door.  
  
Upon opening the door, Leon saw Irena holding a small crate holding eight bottles of Aqua Vita. Leon took the crate without a word with a wide grin on his face. "Thank you," he said quickly, and returned to his room. He did not realize that Blackman was standing behind Irena, as if it didn't matter. As Leon trid to close the door, Irena stepped in.  
  
"Not so fast Leon," she said as she propped the door open.  
  
Leon looked back, "Oh yes, how much do I owe you? 100 potch?"  
  
Irena looked back at Blackman and said something, Blackman waved and left. Irena then entered the cabin and locked the door. Leon fumbled through a pile of papers searching for some potch, not realizing that Irena has drawn out a curved dagger.  
  
"Here it is! 100 potch!" Leon screamed out in joy, turning back, he felt something cold on his neck.  
  
"Don't move Silverberg, or I would have to waste your prescious life," Irena said in a cold voice. Leon raised his arms in the air in fear and emitted a loud cry, "Bu, bu, but, I am not Leon Silverberg! I told you I am just a commercial writer!"  
  
"Hush, I know everything--of how you are living a fake life to hide from those who would exploit your skill, and how you visit the grave of your dead wife every moon cycle. You can not lie to me, Silverberg..." Irena said in a mocking tone.  
  
-------   
  
I don't know how my cover was blown, but this girl knows who I am. Perhaps it was a mistake to visit the grave of Kilawher. Regardless, this is not a good situation, her dagger smells of zodiac tower poison--a sting of that and I would die immediately.  
  
"What do you want?" Leon said in a loud, clear voice. 


End file.
